The Hike
Christine Storgeoff, 18
Canada
"Keep breathing, that's the key; breathe!" That command is all I can concentrate on while trudging up this hill I have personally christened in my mind as, "the Cliff of Hell."
This afternoon jaunt up from Sinclair Canyon in British Columbia, Canada, is just one of the hikes our family does for fun. That's right, fun! No, I am not insane. Let me explain why I am drawn to this aspect of camping and the great outdoors.
The hike is a little less than 3 miles round-trip—nothing serious. I suspect you are looking at this distance horizontally in your head. Sorry, chum. Let us turn that distance diagonally and have it switch back and forth, crossing up a desert-like hill.
The hike actually starts at Redstreak Campground in Radium Hot Springs, British Columbia. Lazily turning angles quickly escalate into sharp turns while you trot down a steep hill, with a mind-warping view of the highway dropping down to your side. The main idea is not to look down.
I try not to slip on the loose stones or varicose* tree roots. Despite the constant need to watch my footsteps, it is impossible to ignore the beauty of the cedar forest, whose aroma wafts deliciously in the steadily heated air. I start some off-tune singing to ward off any bears in the area. Surely a spirited rendition of "The 12 Days of Christmas" would scare any bear away—not to mention fellow hikers!
We start our descent into a refreshingly cool canyon. It's glorious to see how quickly altitude can affect the surroundings! The aridness is transcended by mistiness and the peace of a rainforest stream. The canyon is cut by the rushing, knee-deep river and guarded by towering cedar trees. Venturing into the icy stream is an almost primal experience. A mountain baptism to become part of the land. "Douse thyself" becomes my mountain mantra*.
After crossing a quaint footbridge covered with clingy, green moss, we drag our poor, yet refreshed, city-trained bodies up the opposing hill. Maybe I'm delirious. Does the moss seem to be feebly waving their fronds to those leaving the valley, asking us to stay and rest awhile? Or are the cedars beckoning creatures to be still, and become part of the earth like them? I start to wonder what crossing Death Valley feels like in comparison to this. The scorching heat has returned with a vengeance. I should have listened to the cedar tree.
At moments like these, when our socks are being dried out as quickly as we can excrete copious amounts of sweat into them, time seems to move slowly. The weary yet determined walk up those dusty ledges slows my mind down to a mere crawl. Or perhaps it is simply reflecting my speed.
Sweat stings my eyes and swamps the back of my tank top. I lie to myself, thinking of how good I will look after I finish this sick hike. Ha, I'll physically look anything but good, I know, but the satisfaction of clambering up this mountain will make me glow like a champion—my own hero. I keep going. I mean, why else would anyone do this?
Except, perhaps, for the state of being stimulated, refreshed, and elated, or reaching the all-mighty, seemingly evasive goal. In our terms, this means pushing one last foot up that cliff and stepping onto the top peak, surveying the world in a new light.
For a moment, it feels as if my soul has seeped through every pore in my body and swathed me in its evanescent* folds. Good is not a word that could possibly describe this aura of purity that comes from literally conquering the mountain.
The view up here is spectacular, and like I said, time slows down. I am no longer immersed in the activities on ground, scurrying like ants in the daily grind. I can view life from a cloud's perspective. Things that seemed important yesterday in the city melt away and reveal what's been standing quietly all along, behind the materialistic problems of everyday life: serenity.
In the physical challenge of pushing myself further and further, it becomes easier to listen to the calm inside. It is a spiritual experience, if I allow it to be. It soothes my soul like a tranquilizing balm*. I see a hawk and feel as if I could soar over the edge, joining him in his dance with the shimmering wind.
*Varicose: swollen or knotted
*Mantra: a word or formula chanted or sung as a prayer
*Evanescent: short-lived, passing away quickly, or vanishing
*Balm: something that soothes, heals, or comforts
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Do have an outdoor adventure you would like to achieve some day? What would it be?
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